


We Don't Meet by Accident

by Hubris_BNL



Series: The Adventures of Aaron Burr [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron Burr: needs sleep, Alexander Hamilton: Non-stop thought machine, Gen, Hercules Mulligan: sews a damn good suit, John Laurens: Turtle Aficionado, Lafayette: frightened foreigner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6551863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hubris_BNL/pseuds/Hubris_BNL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Aaron didn't get their names and one time he got them all at once.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Mile a Minute

Spring had officially come to Princeton College; the sun was out, the smell of freshly mowed grass filling the air. For Aaron Burr, it meant the much looked forward to chance to study outside.

So that morning, having no classes to attend, Aaron had collected his books, gone outside, picked a good looking spot on the lawn outside the Administration Building and spread out, creating a small nest of textbooks and papers around him.

Another thing which came with the spring was a surprising amount of high school tours and fieldtrips, all of them descending on Princeton like insects to a bug zapper.

So being outside turned out quite a bit louder than Aaron had been expecting, but he was already sitting down so that was that. Plus the sun felt so nice and warm against his face that he’d sacrifice quiet for it.

As he poured over his theology notes, he couldn’t help but notice the amazing loud group of students who were passing him at that moment. They were being led by one of the campus organizers he recognized, they were in the same biology class.

Beside them, Aaron noticed a boy, probably about a year older than himself, speaking so fast and loud that the leader looked like they were contemplating jumping off the campus’ hanging whale skeleton. Aaron couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the boy flipping through a notebook and scribbling in it furiously.

The organizer sighed exasperatedly, but saw Aaron sitting on the lawn. He grinned, sending the boy a wave.

“Morning, Aaron. Got that assignment started for Darwin’s class?”

“Finished it last night.” Aaron called back, smiling.

“Man, remind me to get you to write my end of term paper.”

Aaron waved as he turned away, leading his group of rambunctious younguns’ towards the Chemistry building. The boy who had been writing in his notebook and asking the questions did not follow immediately. He simply stood, staring across at Aaron with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

Aaron stared back, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the strange boy watching him from across the path. Thankfully the boy was called back by his leader. He spared Burr one last look before racing off after the group.

Weird.

As the day gave way to afternoon, Aaron began collecting his books, planning on grabbing a quick lunch and heading back to his room to finish his work. Hitching his backpack higher up on his shoulders, he began the trek towards the nearest Food Truck.

As he neared the center of campus, and the Thai truck he loved so much, Aaron noticed the group he’d seen earlier all sitting around eating lunch as well. He looked around warily for the boy who had been creeping on him, but when he saw no sign, he simply shrugged and went to order his food.

As he waited, Burr suddenly felt a presence behind him, breath on his neck. He went rigid, turning slowly, tightly, to face the person behind him. When he saw who it was, he had to stop himself from screaming. Instead he plastered on the largest of his smiles.

It was the boy from earlier only this time Aaron was able to get a good look at him. He had long dark hair tied up in a bun and heavy bags under his eyes. His hands were stuffed in the front of his dirty grey hoodie and his face was very serious. He couldn’t have been more than a year older then Aaron.

“Hello.” Aaron said, his smile wide and tight.

“How old are you?” the boy demanded, not even acknowledging Aaron’s greeting.

“Excuse me?” he asked, still smiling but beginning to back away slowly. The boy grabbed his arm before he could make a break for it.

“How old are you?” he was more forceful, almost desperate. Aaron’s smile slipped for a moment.

“13.” He said simply.

The boy released his arm and took a step back, eyes wide and unbelieving. Then, slowly, a large grin appeared on his face. His eyes twinkled with admiration as he looked at Aaron and the younger boy pulled at his collar, looking anywhere but at the boy in front of him.

“That’s AMAZING!” he shouted suddenly and Aaron nearly jumped, “And you’re in first year!? WOW!”

Aaron couldn’t help it, “Actually, I’m a sophomore.”

He shouldn’t have said anything because now the boy was practically hopping up and down with excitement. He grabbed Aaron by the shoulders, shaking him wildly.

“HOLY SHIT! AND YOU’RE 13 OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING YOU’RE MY HERO!!!”

Aaron barely processed it when his order number was called, but was able to pry himself away from the boy long enough to grab his food. He hoped that now that he was eating, the boy would leave him in peace.

Wrong.

“So what courses are you taking? What are the professors like? Do you share a dorm? What’s that like, with you being 13? Do you get, like, special treatment, or can you do everything a normal sophomore can do?”

He followed Aaron almost reverently, and seeing that there was going to be no getting rid of him, Aaron simply sat down on a nearby bench and began to eat as the boy continued to ask questions, not waiting for answers.

“Do you get involved in a lot of events here? Are you in any clubs, or is it too much with the work load? I expect your workload is pretty huge am I right? Have you been to any parties?”

Aaron let his smile drop and sent the boy a withering glare.

“I have,” he replied, “I don’t recommend it.”

The boy was quiet for a moment, a miracle to Aaron, but he continued after a moment,

“So what are you studying?”

“Theology, but I’m thinking about switching to law-” he was cut off by the boy’s delighted gasp.

“I’m going into law!” he cried, “Now you have to switch! When I get here, we can be in the same classes!”

Aaron laughed forcefully, fiddling with the fork in his hand. The boy’s eyes never left him, even as he ate he was staring at Aaron like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Aaron tried to finish his food as fast as he could.

“I go to an Academy in Elizabethtown,” he continued, “I’m really hoping to get into Princeton, but I guess Columbia wouldn’t be too bad either. Really anywhere’s better than Charlestown. That’s in Nevis, where I’m from. I’m still trying to get used to the winters here, there were never any winters in the Caribbean, it being the Caribbean and all. Are you from New York, or did you move here to come to Princeton? Wait your live on rez right?”

 Aaron couldn’t take it anymore. His eye twitched, his smile wavering ever so slightly. Clutching his empty container in his hands, he stood up, smiling down at the boy.

“Well, I should go back to my dorm, it was nice meeting you.”

The boy looked disappointed, standing as well with his brows furrowed.

“Oh, you’re going? I thought we could talk some more, I’m just so excited to come here, well, after I get out of High School of course. You’ve inspired me! I’ve never met someone so young in _university_! Well, actually, there are a _million_ things I haven’t done, but just you wait!”

The boy could literally not stop talking and Aaron’s face was getting tired from smiling. He started backing away again, almost getting away when the boy shouted again.

“HEY! I never got your name!”

Aaron opened his mouth, just about to answer so that he could finally leave, when the group leader began calling everyone back. Including the boy.

“Looks like you gotta go.” Aaron commented, relieved.

“I guess so,” the boy said, his face going from disappointed to grinning, “but don’t worry; a couple more years and we can study together! Don’t go making a name for yourself without me!”

“Great.” Aaron said, not sounding incredibly enthused, but the boy must not have noticed.

“I know!” he shouted, bouncing on his heels before taking off towards his leader, “I’ll be seeing you soon!”

Aaron stared after the boy, who had gone back to talking to his peers a million miles a minute. With a sigh, Aaron pulled on his backpack and marched towards his dorm building. It occurred to him he’d never gotten the boy’s name either. Not that it mattered to him anyway. To be honest, he’d be happy if he never saw him again, he’d never met someone so short with so much enthusiasm.

It made Aaron’s head hurt.

It was comforting to know though that he’d be graduating at the end of the next year, so he’d probably never have to take a class with him.


	2. Much Ado about Turtles

Biology was the worst! Well, maybe not the worst for biologists, but Aaron was in the Arts! In theology! He saw no point in needing a science credit, but he did what he had to do. And at that moment, he had to do an essay on sea creatures.

It was a Monday morning when he went to the aquarium, wanting to get there when kids were in school and there were no tourists around and the wee hours of the day seemed the best time to do that. He meandered around the tanks for a while until he reached the shark tank.

Sharks were cool; he’d do his essay on sharks.

Setting his backpack on the ground next to the tank, Aaron sat down, pulling out his laptop and biology textbook. He began typing notes on what he already knew about sharks, looking at his phone every now and again to look up something online.

It was quiet here, he thought to himself, he should come to work at the Aquarium more often.

This thought was ejected from his mind as soon as the first paper ball hit him in the head. His eyes shot up, scanning the area, but he couldn’t see anything. He frowned, slowly turning back to his laptop.

Another one whacked him in the side of the head and he looked around wildly for the source. When he still couldn’t see anyone, he huffed.

“Ha ha, very funny.” he mumbled, going back to his laptop. That’s when he heard the giggling.

His eyes followed the noise up and to the landing above his head. Sure enough, a boy peaked down at him under the railing, a grin on his face. Aaron scowled, watching him.

“Do you mind?” he said loudly.

“Not at all.” the boy answered, subsequently dropping another crumbled piece of paper down. This time, Aaron caught it and attempted to throw it back up at the boy. As it flew up, the boy reached his arm through the bars, trying to reach out and catch it, but it didn’t reach and flew back down to Burr, who caught it again with a scowl.

“Nice try,” the boy called down, “you gotta get more air though.”

“This is ridiculous.” Burr mumbled, dropping the paper beside him as he began typing again.

“Oh, hey.” came the boy’s voice again, “Do you mind trying again? I kinda need that paper.”

Aaron looked up at him, utterly bewildered.

“If you needed it, why’d you throw it at me?”

The boy shrugged. Aaron sighed, preparing to to throw it up again when the boy stopped him.

“Wait, why don’t I just come down?” 

Aaron moaned, rubbing his eyes as the boy raced down the stairs. As he came, Aaron unfolded the piece of paper, looking to see exactly what the boy had thrown but needed back. It was drawings of turtles, quite good drawings as well. As Aaron was admiring them, the boy came up beside them, snatching them away with a scowl on his face.

“Hey!” Aaron complained at the boy’s rude behavior. The boy glared at him as he shoved the paper into his own backpack.

“You gonna tell me how bad they are too?” he grumbled. Aaron was perplexed.

“Why would i do that? They’re really good.”

The boy froze, looking up from his bag slowly with big eyes. His face went from surprised to angry, but Aaron saw a small spark of hope on his face.

“You’re just saying that.”

“You pelted me with paper balls,” Aaron smirked, “I wouldn’t compliment you if I didn’t mean it.”

This caught the boy by surprise, and he sat down in front of Aaron. As he was sitting, it gave Aaron the chance to look at him. He had medium length curly hair and freckles. A LOT of freckles.His face was practically one big freckle with tiny patches of lighter skin. He was looking at his drawings as if searching for something to be proud of. 

“Do you like turtles?” Aaron ventured to ask. The boy’s response was almost immediate.

“Yes!”

“I figured. You’d have to look at them a lot to get their anatomy as perfect as you’ve drawn it.”

The boy blushed at the praise, eyes downcast as his paper, staring at it with a smile. Little did Aaron know that that particular boy had never liked one of his drawings before. Aaron looked back down at his writings, thinking for a moment.

“Do you know…a lot about turtles?”

“Everything there is to know!” the boy grinned. That settled it.

“Um..” Aaron began, “you wouldn’t be interested in helping me with an essay I’m writing?”

The boy’s eyes practically lit up, “On turtles!?”

“Well I was going to do sharks, but I’m not getting very far, and since you know so much-”

“Then we have to move.” the boy got up, throwing on his backpack and giving Aaron a hand up.

“Why?”

“To be with the turtles of course.”

So Aaron followed the boy through the dim aquarium, he obviously knew where he was going. Finally they reached the Sea Turtles exhibit, and Aaron snorted as the boy thrust out his arms in front of one of the tanks.

“These are my people!”

The two boys sat in front of the tank, Aaron listening and typing as the boy began to tell him about sea turtles, life spans, mating habits, their young, all of it. Aaron was impressed and said as much. The boy simply blushed, waving him off. 

At around noon, they got up and went to get lunch at the aquarium cafeteria, eating as they watched the staff feed the dolphins. There were more people around the aquarium at that time, but that was okay, Aaron had gotten the information he needed.

“Listen, thanks for all your help.” he said as they walked back towards the exit.

“It was no problem, actually it was fun.” the boy went quiet for a second, “thanks for liking my pictures.”

Aaron laughed, “You don’t have to thank me for liking them if they’re good.”

The boy blushed again and Aaron began to wonder if this was the first time he’d been complimented on anything. He nudged him gently.

“I better see your turtles in an Art Gallery.” the boy laughed.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” he said, holding out his hand to Aaron. 

Aaron took it and shook it gently. “Yeah, see ya.”

As Aaron left, he remembered he’d never gotten the boy’s name, and turned around abruptly to ask him, but the boy was already gone. Aaron was disappointed, but hoped he’d get to see the boy again. 

Aaron returned to the aquarium many times after that in the hopes of seeing the boy again. He never found him, but he did get an A on his essay.   


	3. Favorite Frightened Frenchman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversations in Italics are them speaking french, just so you know.

It wasn’t that money was tight, Aaron had money for days, as the young people said. No it wasn’t about the money. Aaron had finished his first year at Princeton, but had never had a job, not that that was strange, he was only 15, but he wanted the experience. So he’d gotten a job at the University Art Museum, which was quite a bit more popular than he’d originally thought it would be. 

That and it was spring break. 

Families were coming up to see the University, and hey, why not visit the museum while they were there? This didn’t bother Aaron though, he loved the museum and had made a point of learning about each exhibit, from American to Asian art, to their Byzantine exhibits, Aaron knew them all.

Not that they put him on much for touring, apparently adult groups didn’t like it when someone so young knew so much more than them, they thought it was rude. And none of the younger groups would listen to him. So unfortunately, he was stuck cataloguing, doomed to never share his fount of knowledge with the group of heathens before him.

He clutched his clipboard tightly, rubbing his eyes. It was so tedious, and completely unfair. Why was he the only person who wasn’t an idiot? But he needed the experience, the references, he  _ wanted  _ the money, there was no real choice. Talk less, smile more.

And he was doing just that when he noticed the young boy across the gallery. He shorter than Aaron himself, with big curly hair tied back into a ponytail. He also looked incredibly panicked. Like, the kid looked like he was going to throw up any second.

When it looked like no one was going to come and help him, Aaron sighed, holding his clipboard tightly to his chest and stalked over. He was careful to wipe the scowl from his face as he neared the boy and put on one of his best smiles.

“Hello, do you need any help?” 

“J’ai perdu mes grands-parents et nul dans ce fichu pays parle Français! Je ne sais pas quoi faire, je ne sais pas où ils sont allés, je ne sais pas où nous en sommes dans ce pay Dieu abandonné!”

He was talking so fast Aaron couldn’t get a handle on what he was saying, plus he looked like he was about to burst into tears at any given moment. So, with his smile still plastered on his face, he fished around in his brain for his french lessons.

“Vous aurez à parler lentement, mon Français est rouillé.”

The boy’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped slightly as he stared at Aaron. Then slowly, his expression turned into one of glee, a large grin on his face.

_ “You can speak French!” _

_ “Yes but I am out of practice. You will have to repeat your problem. And slowly please.” _

The boy’s face fell again.  _ “I cannot find my grandparents, I lost them in the crowd.” _

Aaron nodded thoughtfully, smiling at the boy.

_ “The museum isn’t too big, we’ll find them.” _

_ “You’ll help me!?”  _ looking at the boy’s relief you would have thought Aaron had saved him from a burning building.

_ “Of course, come on.”  _

Aaron took the lead, making sure to keep the boy within his sights, but as they got into the more crowded part of the gallery, filled with very loud Americans, the boy began to get anxious again. Aaron could only sigh when the boy slipped his small hand into Aaron’s so as not to lose him. But he held tight, flowing through the crowd easily. 

_ “You are very fast.” _ the boy remarked, struggling to keep up with Aaron who only hummed in response, slowing down substantially, allowing the boy to walk beside him rather than run after him.

_ “So you came with your grandparents for vacation?” _ he attempted at small talk.

_ “Yes,” _ the boy answered, eyes darting about curiously,  _ “they take care of me when my mother is...unable to. It has been...difficult for her since my father died.” _

Aaron froze, looking down at the boy with a small reassuring smile. He knew what it was like to lose a parent.

_ “I’m sorry.” _ he said, but the boy waved him off, even had a smile on his face.

_ “Do not be, he died well. Struck by a cannonball!” _

Aaron’s eyes widened as he looked at the little boy who was grinning broadly as he told him about his father’s bravery and very good death. Finally, he Aaron simply hummed, beginning to walk again.

_ “What part of France are you from?” _

_ “Chavaniac,”  _ he responded,  _ “but I go to Paris when my Mother summons me.” _

_ “How are you liking America in comparison?” _

_ “It is...different,” _ the boy wrinkled his nose and Aaron had to smile,  _ “I have not seen much of it, so I cannot make a fair comparison.” _

_ “You’ll love it.” _ Aaron couldn’t help but say, and the boy smiled at him widely. 

_ “If you say I will, I will.” _

He laughed, pulling the boy along quicker, wondering if he was even looking for his grandparents, or if he just enjoyed walking around holding hands with Aaron. He was about to ask him if he recognized anyone when he felt the boy stop behind him.

Turning around, he saw the him staring up at one of the paintings adoringly, and Aaron stepped closer. It was a painting from their new exhibit, Jewish Contributions to American Culture.

_ “She is beautiful.” _

He was staring at Rebecca Gratz, a jewish philanthropist who had created many welfare organizations after the American Revolution. She had also aided in the founding of the Philadelphia Orphanage, and began a Hebrew school for children to learn their religion as the synagogues at the time were declining in power.

He told the boy as much and as he spoke the boy’s eye sparkled with wonder. 

_ “Are you a tour guide?” _ he asked. Aaron scowled.

_ “No.” _ he ground out. The boy was surprised.

_ “Why not?”  _ He asked, seeming to be personally offended that Aaron wasn’t a tour guide.

_ “People think it’s rude if a kid knows more than them.” _

The boy huffed, re-positioning his hand in Aaron’s. 

_ “If you came to France, you would be hailed as a genius.” _

_ “I  _ **_am_ ** _ a genius.” _ Aaron muttered, and pulled the boy along again through the crowd.

The boy pulled him to a stop many times after that, asking him to explain the exhibits, and Aaron did, telling him about the history, the painter, the time period, it made him smile that he could finally do his job properly, even if it was only for one boy.

He didn’t seem to mind though, hanging on Aaron’s every word as he spoke, seemingly forgetting about his lost grandparents. That is, until Aaron heard a great yell and his eyes snapped in the direction of it. The boy beside him looked as well and gave a cry, letting go of Aaron’s hand and racing through the crowd towards a stately looking older man and a beautiful white haired woman.

Aaron tried to make sense of what they were saying but they were speaking so fast that he couldn’t keep up. So he simply bowed his head and took a step back, letting himself get swept back up in the crowd, not wanting to intrude. Before he disappeared from his sight, Aaron found himself locking eyes with the boy, who looked surprised and panicked as Aaron left his side.

Aaron couldn’t help it, he sent him a genuine smile and a quick wink, laughing when the boy seemed to melt. Clutching his clipboard to his chest, Aaron’s smile lasted him the whole day, even as he slaved through doing inventory, he laughed at the thought of the little excited french boy. 

Aaron hoped the boy enjoyed America, it seemed like a good place for someone who was proud of their father dying via cannonball. Who gets hit by a cannonball anyway? Aaron should have asked. He also should have gotten a name, somewhere to crash if he was ever in Paris. But it was probably for the best, and when he thought about it, it was a just a fluke that Aaron had seen the boy at all, seeing him again would be like a chance in a million.

Never gonna happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
>  _"I have lost my grandparents and no one in this damn country speaks French! I don't know what to do, I don't know where they went, I don't even know where we are in this God forsaken country!"_
> 
> _"You'll have to speak slowly, my french is rusty."_
> 
> I have a headcanon that Laf has a mini schoolboy's crush on Aaron and this is how it started. Don't look at me!


	4. Sewing some Pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter because it was brought to my attention that the one I had written previously was insensitive and incredibly small minded. I'd like to apologize, I do completely understand and am sorry, it was a pretty big failing on my part. But I do hope you enjoy the rewritten version, and know that I love ya'll! You deserve better from me and I'll do my best to give it.

Aaron Burr wasn’t exactly what one might call “fashionable.” Hell, he had to look on the internet to find out what to wear to a party! So it was only right that he properly freaked out when it came to his graduation. He’d left all his suits back at his Uncle’s in New Jersey and he had no desire to go there and retrieve them.

That meant he needed a new suit. 

The only problem was he had no idea how to go about it. His family tailor was back in Newark, and again, Aaron wasn’t about to travel that far. He’d never been to a tailor on his own before, so he decided to call James who had graduated the previous year. 

Taking out his cell phone, he dialed the number James had given to him on his departure with Thomas. He waited as the phone rang, pacing the length of his single dorm. Finally, a familiar voice answered.

“Hello?” 

“Hey James.”

“Aaron!” James exclaimed happily, “We haven’t heard from you in months! How’s school?”

“It’s alright,” Aaron said, not really wanting to get into a deep conversation about his studies, “How are you and Thomas?”

After he had graduated, James had decided to move in with Thomas at Monticello. Aaron had said it was pretentious, naming a house, Thomas had said it was only proper for people as wealthy as he was. Aaron scoffed, Thomas pinched his cheek,

“We’re doing well.” James replied, and Aaron grinned. 

“ _ Yeah _ you are.” he laughed as James sighed exasperatedly.

“Honestly Aaron, I think Thomas is rubbing off on you.”

Aaron made a face when he said this, praying he never became like Thomas. That was a fate worse than death. He was snapped from his thoughts at the sound of James talking to someone on his end, followed by a loud shout.

“Thomas wants me to put you on speaker.” he said.

“Wait, wait, don’t-” but it was too late, the voice of the excitable Jefferson soon filled his ears.

“Aaron!” he exclaimed as Aaron groaned, “We haven’t heard from you in ages, why don’t you ever come and visit Monticello?”

“Because it’s in Virginia, I’m in New York, and I’m-”

“- _ busy _ .” the two men on the other line finished for him, before laughing. Aaron scowled. 

“Listen,” he said finally, knowing that if he let the two men go, he’d be there all night, “James, can you text me the address of the place where you got your suit last year.”

Their laughter died down, and James was quiet for a moment, only whispering something to Thomas before answering.

“Sure Aaron, but why do you need a suit?”

“It’s my last year, James,” Aaron replied exasperatedly, “I graduate in May.”

“Whaaaaaat?” he heard Thomas say and had to smother his laughter, “But you’re only, like, 14!”

“16.” he corrected, “I know old age is a drag but do try to keep up, Thomas.”

“Cheeky.” the mad grumbled and Aaron and James laughed.

“Yeah Aaron, I’ll text you the address.” Aaron narrowed his eyes at the lingering voice. James wasn’t finished, “So what day is your graduation?”

There it was. He knew he shouldn’t have mentioned it. James probably felt it was his duty of something to go, but he didn’t want either him or Thomas going. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t want them going, he just didn’t want to have to explain why none of his “family” was there. 

“We don’t know yet,” the boy lied, “I’ll have to check the website.”

“Alright,” James didn’t sound like he believed him though, “Just let us know.”

“Sure.” Aaron was about to hang up when James went on.

“But Thomas is right, you should come visit us over the summer or something.”

Aaron had to smile, “I’ll do my best James. Thanks.”

* * *

James had indeed texted him the address, which was where Aaron currently stood. It was a shop on the corner of a busy street and it looked to Aaron that everyone was buying a suit today. Nervously, he hoisted his messenger back higher on his shoulders and crossed the street.

When he entered the store, it seemed as though he was correct. The place was practically packed with people, whether it was businessmen buying new shirts or ties, or men getting their pants tailored, or entire suits fitted. 

Either way it looked as though everyone knew what they were doing and Aaron was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. 

He drifted by the dress shirts, eyeing ties and bowties, though he still wasn’t entirely sure what to do. All the shirts looked too big for him, the ties too long. He knew he needed a fitted suit, but everyone already looked busy. He didn’t want to be a bother. 

He found himself standing in front of one of the full length mirrors, eyeing his reflection with a scowl. That was when he noticed the man coming up behind him.

“Hey, can I help you?”

Aaron fidgeted. The man was smiling down at him patiently, probably sensing that the boy had no idea what he was doing. Aaron looked the man over. He was tall, at least, taller than Aaron, which honestly wasn’t a feat. He wore a dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a grey beanie; a measuring tape was draped around his shoulders.

Looking down at his shoes, Aaron mumbled that he needed a suit tailored and jumped when the man laughed, loud and heartily. 

“Well why didn’t you just say so? This is a tailor shop kid, it’s what we do.” He put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder, leading him into one of the corners of the store, “No need to be nervous about it.”

They were farther away from the bustle of the store floor, and were standing in a small alcove bordered by a three way mirror. The young man tapped the box in front of it with his foot, indicating to Aaron to stand on top of it. 

Aaron set his bag to the side and climbed up as the man took the measuring tape from around his shoulders.

“I can take your measurements now, though you’ll have to make an appointment for a fitting.” he explained, beginning to measure Aaron’s shoulder length. Aaron simply nodded, looking back at the shop floor filled with people.

“Sorry it’s so busy,” the man said suddenly, “It’s graduation season.”

“That’s why I’m here too.” Aaron muttered, fidgeting slightly, only to have his hands stilled by the tailors.

“Really? You graduating from High School or something? You seem pretty young.”

Aaron couldn’t help the swell of pride at the man’s amazed expression when he answered with,

“From Princeton actually.”

“Like the university?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh,” the man nodded, seemingly impressed, “How old are you? _ Stop fidgeting _ .”

“16.” Aaron said, clapping his hands to his sides.

“Wow, you’re one of those child prodigies then, huh? Deep breath.”

Aaron nodded, taking a breath and expanding his chest as the man measured, writing down numbers on his clipboard. 

Aaron sighed quietly, not bored per say, but just standing as the man measured each arm and leg. That is, until something caught his eye. 

“What’s that?” he asked, and the man looked up.

Aaron pointed to a large sketchbook on one of the stools not far away, and the man followed his gaze, ducking his head when he saw what the boy was looking at. 

“Those are nothing.”

“They don’t look like nothing.” Aaron responded, standing on his toes, trying to get a better look.

“Honestly, hold still.” the man sighed, “and they’re just some designs of mine, Nothing special.”

Aaron shuffled his feet shyly.

“Can I see them?”

The man was surprised by the question, and hesitated in grabbing the sketchbook. But he did, pulling up the stool as Aaron sat on the box. The hesitation went away as they flipped through the sketches, the man explaining each design and inspiration so passionately that Aaron sat in rapt attention.

The designs were runway material, Aaron thought, and said as much to the man, who only laughed in return.

“I’m not there yet, kid. Maybe one day I’ll have my own store, but right now, I gotta focus on getting your measurements without you squirming, I mean  _ seriously _ .”

“Sorry.” Aaron said, blushing slightly, trying to keep as still as possible. 

But he couldn’t help looking back at the book as the man finished his measurements. The suits he’d seen the man design were very classy, and he looked at his reflection critically. His tailor was just finishing up measuring his arms when he asked,

“Now, is there any particular way you’d like your suit to look?”

Aaron didn’t hesitate.

“Like that.” he pointed to the sketchbook, the page open on a beautifully cut black two piece suit with a shocking royal blue tie and handkerchief.

The man did a double take of where Aaron was pointing. He looked up at him sternly, but Aaron could see the small bit of hope in his eyes and smiled. 

“You can’t be serious.” the man’s deep voice rumbled and Aaron nodded enthusiastically.

“Really, I want to wear that one!” he continued pointing at it, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “Have you ever made one for someone before?”

“Not one of my own, no, but-” the man stuttered before Aaron interrupted. 

“Then I can be the first!”

The man gazed up at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed and Aaron felt for a moment as though he’d overstepped. Perhaps the man wasn’t ready to show off his work, or was sensitive about it. He was about to apologise for his assumptions when the man laughed suddenly, making Aaron jump for the second time. 

“Well alright then!” he grinned, turning back to the shop floor, “Hey Cato!”

Another man soon came running up behind Aaron’s tailor, looking questioningly at the two of them. He wore his sleeves rolled up as well, a light blue tie around his neck along with a measuring tape like the man crouching in front of Aaron..

“What’s up?” Cato asked. The tailor didn’t stop grinning.

He reached over to his sketchbook, ripping out the page that had the suit on it and put it on top of his clipboard with Aaron’s measurements. 

“Can you put these together in, sorry what’s your name young fella?”

Aaron blinked, “Uh, Burr, Aaron Burr.”

“Put them together with Burr, Aaron Burr’s measurements and on the workbench for me, will you?”

As he took the papers, Cato looked them over, grinning himself.

“Finally making one of your pieces, eh? Can’t wait to see how it looks!” And he took off towards the back of the shop.

And it was an impressive suit to say the least. A few months of consultations and fittings later, Aaron stood in front of his graduation class, wearing his new suit with pride. Everything was perfect, each seam and edge perfectly cut and stitched. 

The only disappointment came when he returned to the shop, a fruit basket in hand for his tailor. He asked Cato where he was, and Cato simply shook his head.

“Sorry kid, he quit a couple of weeks ago, no one’s really sure why, but he said something about socially advancing. I can make sure he gets this though.”

Aaron could only nod, thanking Cato for his help and handing off the basket. Putting his hands in his pockets, he began to walk home, realizing half way there that the man, over their many meetings, had never given Aaron his name. 

The boy had only been able to write  _ Thank You _ on the card in the basket, and he’d seen the scrawled signature on each of his designs many times, though he’d never been able to decipher what it had said.

Kicking a stone, Aaron hummed, frustrated at the fact that A.) he had no idea where his tailor had gone, and B.) he had no way of finding him because he hadn’t been smart enough to ask for a  _ STUPID NAME! _

He had to stop meeting people like this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd also like to encourage you guys, if you see anything at all that makes you uncomfortable or you find offensive PLEASE do NOT hesitate to message me or leave a comment about it. I know that I'M not perfect, but I'd like to make these fics as perfect for you guys as I can. I love you all! <3
> 
> Oh, also DEFINITELY check out RebelRebel13's tiny burr-verse fic! It's awesome!!!


	5. What are the Odds the gods Would Put us all in One Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAIT!!! Just before you read this, if you haven't read my fic Jackrabbit, I would suggest reading that first, the happenings in that are a part of this chapter and adds to the story line. It'll make a lot more sense if you read that one first. :D

It was the end of March, Aaron Burr was 21, and he was standing in front of a Fourth Year law class with a scowl. He’d been approached by one of the professors in the Law Department to do a week of lectures surrounding theology and law, and he’d jumped at the chance.

He was now starting to seriously regret it.

His day had started off normal as usual, he’d left his apartment early, hoping to review his lecture notes and at the same time, calm himself down because this was his first lecture! He knew all the students in the hall would be older than him, so he had to make it good.

Buttoning up his suit jacket, Aaron looked at himself in the mirror, nodding his approval at his reflection. He breathed in...out...in….out, and snatched his briefcase off the table, heading to the door. 

He shut it behind him and began his day. 

This consisted of catching the bus to the university, grabbing a coffee from the cafe he’d frequented when he had been a student, and beginning his trek across campus to the Law Building. It was busy that morning, even with it being early and most students still oversleeping in their dorms. 

It had been a full year since Aaron had been on campus, as he was busy with work at the law firm he’d been hired at. Well, “work,” it was more him shadowing some of the senior lawyers but he enjoyed it all the same. 

He reached the building, skipping up the steps, briefcase clutched tight in his fist so as to stop his hand from shaking. Shoving his other hand in his pocket, he walked the halls until he reached the lecture hall. 

It was empty, the class still being a half hour away from starting, but Burr began to set up anyway. He fiddled with the projector, connecting it to his laptop and making sure it actually worked. He shuffled his notes continuously, anxious to both get it over with, and make it last as long as he could.

Taking a sip from his coffee, he watched from the front of the hall as the students finally began to mill in, many looking extremely tired and worn. He couldn’t help but smile, remembering when he was like that. Not that he wasn’t still dead tired 24/7, but at least it wasn’t because of school.

Spreading his notes out on the desk in front of him, Aaron adjusted the microphone attached to his collar and, when it looked like the majority of the class was there, cleared his throat. The room fell silent, and he was able to begin his lecture. 

“Good morning,” he started, his voice echoing through the hall, “my name is Aaron Bur. You may have noticed, I am not your usual professor, but I have been asked to guest lecture for you today. I would ask for you to bear with me because this is my first lecture, and to be honest, I’m nervous as all hell.”

There was laughter and Aaron felt himself calm slightly, taking a breath before he began.

“Who let the freshman in?” a voice muttered, and Aaron’s head snapped up with a scowl.

He knew that voice.  _ Oh  _ he knew it all too well.

Usually, he would have let a comment like that slide, continuing without even batting an eye, but this was a special case. 

“I would suggest, Mr Lee, that rather than being rude, you pay attention. That is, if you ever plan on becoming more than an undergraduate.”

There was a soft chorus of  _ oooohhhhhs _ , a shout of  _ HOLY SHIT SUCK IT LEE! _ and Aaron could pinpoint Charles Lee’s furious face in the crowd of students. With a satisfied smirk, he turned back to his notes and began the lecture. 

It was going rather well, there were no more interruptions, save for the few chatting students you always found during lectures, but it was about halfway through that Aaron became aware of the mistake he’d made in doing the lecture at all. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement. Not the subtle  _ student going to the bathroom _ movement, no, they weren’t trying to be subtle at all. Finally, he looked over to where it was coming from, visually pailing at what he saw.

There, sitting in the back left of the lecture hall were four men, three of whom he recognized instantly as the men from the night club. The fourth, a shorter man with long hair tied back in a ponytail, was familiar to Aaron, but he couldn’t quite place him.

He paled as they waved at him, grinning widely. He stuttered, gripping the notes in his hand tightly. There was a wave of muttering as he cleared his throat, turning away from the left side of the room, attempting to continue through the lecture.  

And so he stood, scowling, doing his best to ignore the four men on the left, clicking through the final slides of his power point, and pulling at his collar, loosening his tie. His scowl deepened when he heard a hoot of excitement, and he took his hand away from his tie.

Other than those four, and the glaring face of Charles Lee of course, the class seemed to be enraptured, and after an hour and a half lecture, he concluded to thunderous applauds. Feeling his face heat up, he thanked them all for their attention.

“If there are any questions, I’ll be available for a bit longer, so feel free.”

A few students came up to him, some to ask questions, which he was happy to answer, some simply to tell him he’d been great. He beamed at the praise, and when they were gone, he began collecting his papers into his briefcase. 

Aaron sensed him before he saw him, and straightened, fixing his tie and turning around, keeping himself as professional as he could.

“Mr. Lee.” he greeted, face impassive, “did you have a question?”

The man was more than a head taller than Aaron which, again, wasn’t very difficult since the man was already very short. He stepped close, the sneer Aaron remembered all too well set on his face. He was intimidating, but Aaron wasn’t intimidated. 

No, he wasn’t afraid of Charles Lee anymore, two months of nightmares when he was 13 and he was over it. He put his hands behind his back, standing rigidly and raising an eyebrow at the man.

“I remember you,” Lee snarled, “Burr. I was in the hospital for weeks thanks to you.”

“If you’re talking about your face, I’ve got to say, I don’t see much of a difference. You’re still as ugly as the first time I saw you. If anything, Jefferson simply gave you an excuse for it.”

Aaron wasn’t exactly sure where this was coming from. Actually scratch that, he knew exactly where this was coming from. Years of being too insecure and frightened to be social thanks to the man before him, but he was sick of being frightened.

Lee growled, stepping closer and pushing Burr against the podium behind him. Burr grunted as his back hit the wood, but he didn’t back down, stepping back up to Lee.

“Don’t touch me.” he warned, his voice low.

“Or what, bitch?” he grinned, grabbing Aaron roughly by the collar. Aaron still wasn’t frightened, having waited years to fight it out with Charles Lee, and he was ready to go.

That is, until a low voice interrupted.

“Is there a problem here, Lee?”

Lee turned around to tell whoever it was to promptly get lost, but froze. He released Burr as if he had been burned and took an involuntary step back, letting Aaron see who had spoken. 

The four men from the back of the lecture, the ones who had been waving at him, stood glaring at Charles Lee with very dark expressions. Lee bared his teeth but backed off, knowing he couldn’t take all four of them plus Burr. 

“No,” he ground out, “no problem.”

With one last shove to Aaron, Charles Lee stormed out of the lecture hall and he was left with the four men. The moment Lee was gone, their dark expression changed instantly, grinning at Aaron widely. Aaron, however, was not so happy, disappointed at his missed opportunity of revenge.

“I had it handled.” he stated through clenched teeth, fidgeting with his tie before turning back to collect his papers.

“Oh yeah, totally,” the one with the ponytail said sarcastically. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet in a way Aaron found frustratingly familiar, but he just couldn’t place it.

The more he looked at the four men, the more he noticed how they looked at him. They stared at Burr with such familiarity that he found it exceedingly uncomfortable. His interaction with the first three men at the club had been brief and not incredibly enjoyable, he assumed, for either party.

So why did they look like they already knew him? He cleared his throat.

“Well, thank you gentlemen, but I should be on my-”

“Your sleeves are too long.”

Aaron paused, “Excuse me?”

One of the men, the one with a grey beanie and kind eyes, both of which Aaron swore he knew from somewhere other than the club, smiled down at him.

“Your sleeves are too long, you haven’t had your shirt tailored.”

“Yes well,” Burr coughed, for some reason feeling embarrassed at his lack of tailoring, “I haven’t exactly had time to-”

“Here,” the man reached out, pressing a business card into Aaron’s hand, “come by and I can set you up with a discount and a new wardrobe.”

Aaron was at a loss for words, memories of his graduation suit attempting to break free in his mind as he looked at the business card, then back at the man. He was about to say something when another one of the four, the one with the outrageous amount of freckles, flung an arm around his shoulder.

“Your lecture was great,” he said, beginning to lead Aaron out of the hall as the others followed closely, “I’ve never seen someone so young give a lecture to a senior class. Looks like you’ve come a long way from writing essays about turtles.”

“Turtles?” how had he known about Aaron’s biology essay? That had been in his first year. “How did you-”

“I mean,” Freckles interrupted, but the more Aaron watched him, the more he thought,  _ there’s only one place I’ve seen that amount of freckles in one place _ , “we wouldn’t have even come if Alex hadn’t dragged us here. Finally seeing you again was just a bonus.”

“Again? Wait, we only met a week ago, when you harassed me in that club!” but even as he spoke, Aaron had a feeling that was not the first time they had met.

“Hey, it was only Laf who harassed you.”

“And how can I be blamed for this?” the frenchman came up beside Aaron, who eyed him warily, “The way you left me in that museum quand j’étais un petit garçon left me with a broken heart!”

That was enough, Aaron detached himself from the freckled one, standing in front of the four men with his hands up and his eyebrows furrowed. He took a breath.

“Alright, how the hell do you all know me? I only met you three last week.” he tried desperately to convince himself as well.

The four men paused before grinning at each other, each suddenly taking turns to speak.

“On campus with a tour group.” 

“Aquarium, throwing paper balls.”

“Museum, I had lost my grandparents.”

“Tailored your graduation suit.”

Aaron looked at them with wide eyed as memories flooded back to him. The energetic boy he’d met on campus who’d cornered him on information about how he’d gotten into Princeton now stood with a grin, still bouncing on the balls of his feet.

The boy from the aquarium who’d helped him with his biology essay and who’d drawn such amazing turtles, smirked at him, his face still colonized by freckles.

The little frightened french boy from the museum he’d worked at over the summer, the one who’d lost sight of his grandparents and held Aaron’s hand the entire length of the museum, was now guilty of hitting on him at a nightclub, and had grown very tall indeed.

And his tailor, the one he always dreamed of finding again after his graduation, who had been so kind and designed the best outfits Aaron had ever seen in his young life, had just handed him a card for his own business. 

“ _ Geez- _ ”

“Whoa,” the man with the ponytail exclaimed, coming up beside Aaron and placing a hand on his shoulder, “don’t go fainting on us, buddy.”

“How about we all go get a drink?” the tailor suggested and the others nodded earnestly.

“I don’t drink.” Aaron mumbled, fixing the frenchman with a scowl. The taller man simply winked.

“Well you can get water then.” Freckles chuckled, putting his arm over his shoulder again.

Aaron groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly with one hand, his briefcase clutched in the other.

“I still don’t even know your names.”

The men looked surprised for a moment, never having considered that the man they all had in common didn’t even know their names, seemingly having forgotten, or more likely, consciously omitting the frenchman and the other two’s names from his memory. Either way, their puzzled looks turned into gentle smiles as they each took their turn.

“Hercules Mulligan.”

“John Laurens.”

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.”

“And my name is Alexander Hamilton. It’s nice to meet you Aaron Burr.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked writing this one, this has been a cool little series! Ugh, they're all so beautiful together! Let me know if you liked it! Kudos and comments fuel my writing!!!

**Author's Note:**

> If you have requests or just wanna talk, hit me up @hamilanne


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